Simple Scar
by x3paiger
Summary: RL/SB; Fluff; One-shot, but takes place between "No Better Mistake" and "Finding Home". Early in the morning, Sirius reflects on his favorite feature of Remus', and how it came to be.


**Simple Scar**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**One-Shot. RL/SB; Fluff.**

** Takes place in the Easter holiday of Remus and Sirius' seventh year - an unwritten time between "No Better Mistake" and "Finding Home". It will make _some_ sense if you haven't read one/both/all of the stories, but more sense if you have. **

**The scar is a repeated symbol through my three stories, so I wanted to have a little explanation!**

****o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**  
><strong>

Slowly, Sirius Black opened his eyes. The rays of sun filtering in through the heavy, scarlet curtains were few, but still they served their purpose as a silent alarm, drawing the boy slowly out of his deep sleep. Unlike most mornings, where he often rose late for school, rushing to get ready for class, Sirius found that, on this early Sunday, he awoke already smiling, due, no doubt, to his currently still snoozing companion.

Sirius' smile widened as he glanced down at his bedmate, making no efforts to rise. With the Easter holidays now in session, he and Remus were finally alone again in their dormitory, and they were taking full advantage of the opportunity – the night before had been a late one, as evident by Remus' continued, deep sleep. Remus lay almost exactly as they had fallen asleep; his back close against Sirius' chest, face turned slightly into the pillow, both hands clutching the sheets around his bare chest. A quick glance under the covers would have revealed what was also obvious – in the solitude of their room Remus wore only underwear, Sirius, caring even less, wore nothing at all under their cocoon. While exciting, the almost entirely naked form of his boyfriend was not what drew the grin across Sirius' lips, and it was without thinking, entirely on impulse, that he lifted his index finger, drawing it slowly across the scar on Remus' face.

Long, but thin, and almost completely faded, the scar ran from Remus' ear to cheek, and Sirius' action of tracing it was so commonplace that the boy didn't even stir from his sleep. It was a wound incurred the past summer, the night before the boy's seventeenth birthday, during a full moon that would have been spent alone, had Sirius not come to visit. Although he never liked to see his friend hurt, it wasn't the actual scar that made Sirius smile so fondly, but rather, the memory it stirred up within him… something he doubted even Remus remembered…

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Out in the countryside of Remus' home, it was a clear August night, and the weather was just beginning to be cool. With the sun already setting, Remus had already bid goodbye to his parents, leaving them behind at the cottage to journey out to a much further point in the sprawling fields; a place he knew he wouldn't be bothered once the moon began to rise. As usual, he went alone. Though he had never said it specifically, Sirius knew he preferred to make his transformation in private, and Sirius would join him in a few minutes, already transformed into the large, shaggy dog.

Sirius twirled the last cigarette of his pack between two fingers before igniting it with his wand tip, setting the wand down beside the crumpled paper container and inhaling. He could still see Remus if he squinted, but the combination of the oncoming darkness and the boy's diminishing silhouette was making it difficult. Soon, the glowing ember of his cigarette would be the only light of the evening, save from the stars above and, of course, the ever-present, eerily white full moon. It was this in particular that caused Sirius to raise his eyes upward, sighing deeply. It seemed his hatred for this curse grew every month – instead of becoming used to the transformations, he only felt worse for Remus with every change he endured. Despite this, he always kept a brave face – making jokes even in the worst of scenarios, and knowing that, despite whatever happened, the full moon was always better when Remus was not alone. He had planned his visit strategically this way, so that he would be there during, and perhaps make it a little easier on the boy. Of course, he mentioned none of this, opting, instead, to pretend it was a happy coincidence.

Sirius took another long drag of smoke. Just yesterday he had laid in the same fields that Remus was now, presumably, curled up in – side-by-side with his friend, musing over their futures. Then, too, he had clutched a lit cigarette, but he recalled with another sigh the reason why – he'd needed something to steady his shaking hand, something else to concentrate on besides the hand he had almost let slip to grab Remus' sweating one, something else to look at other than the burning amber eyes determinedly avoiding his gaze. He was torturing himself, he knew – the longer he stayed at the house, the more bold he became, the more he longed to do what he knew he never must – and yet he couldn't leave, not yet. At least not until Remus' birthday, the next night, because then, he swore to himself, _then_ he would finally have the courage to admit what he _really_ wanted to say. He had almost told him, the other night, at the coffee shop – sipping sugared coffee and dropping equally as artificial hints. He had no control around the boy – words just slipped out, betraying him, daring Remus to understand what he meant…

With the sun completely set now, Sirius stood up, the familiar feeling of fluttering nervousness in his stomach. He left the crumpled pack on the steps, but pocketed his wand; and then he transformed, instantly, effortless, into the shaggy black dog form that had chosen him several years ago. If Sirius were to raise up on his hind legs, he would have stood only a few inches shorter than his normal, very tall and very human self; next to an untransformed Remus he reached the boy's middle; a massive size perfect for chasing a full-grown werewolf. With dark, thick fur and his normal, steel-gray eyes, he blended perfectly into the darkness… And, hearing a low howl suddenly pierce the night, Sirius took off, pounding along the grass with all four paws.

Approaching the clearing in the woods where Remus had told him earlier he would be, Sirius drew low to the ground, hiding himself amongst the tall blades. He wanted to assess the situation before he made his move and let the wolf know he was there. He could see a rucksack, packed, he presumed, with Remus' clothes, strung up in a tree, and the wolf itself was pacing along the dirt area, growling as it dug its claws against rocks. Even now, after years, the werewolf still took Sirius' breath away. _The wolf - _ always "the wolf", never Remus, not even as the beast turned in its steps and Sirius caught a glimpse of those familiar amber eyes. With a dog's hairy chest pressed against the hard ground, Sirius could distinctly feel his heart thumping, rapidly beating as the head turned again, and once more he felt pity, mixed with the ever-present incredulity. The wolf was much larger than Remus was in his normal state, heavier, and more powerful; running along on all fours like a very mangy and dangerous dog. It had paws like a bear, with nails as sharp as knives – teeth, too, Sirius knew, could tear through him… if he got too close. The beast's tail was close between its legs, ears flattened upon its head… Breathing deeply one last time, Sirius knew that now, he must shown himself, before the wolf realized his presence on its own.

Raising up from the grass, Sirius did what came naturally as a canine– he barked – and the wolf tore toward him, instantly recognizing. Within seconds, they were off; chasing in circles around the land, barking, howling, and growling as if this were entirely normal, as if one of the beasts wasn't capable of killing a grown man.

It was funny how Sirius felt, transformed – it was almost a childlike experience, and he could have easily slipped into carelessness, but always, he remained alert of the werewolf on his tail. His feelings and thoughts, became decreasingly complex the longer he remained a dog, and he found himself running with the pure joy of playing with a friend. Time, too, seemed insignificant – the two dogs ran through woods and sniffed through leaves like any other creatures, Sirius, happy to engage in any activity that kept the werewolf occupied. As always, there were a few near misses – the wolf had a tendency to go from completely engaged in something like leaves to suddenly wild, snarling, lunging at Sirius with dripping fangs.

On this night, he managed to dodge most of the wolf's attacks – narrowly missing one by dashing past a rather thorny bush, earning him a quick slice to the arm – sighing with relief every time. Neither he nor Remus was entirely sure what would happen if he were to be bitten in his Animagus state, but it was something that they would avoid at all costs. As the night drew on, the wolf, per usual, became more and more aggressive; and Sirius, also typically, was growing tired… it was hard work, avoiding the panting breath and blood-seeking teeth of a full grown werewolf, all on his own…

He was avoiding just that when _it _happened. It was nearly sunrise. Sirius could feel it coming, and he knew the wolf could as well, and by the sounds behind him, the wolf was closing in, desperate to get his attack in before the night ended. There was _no_ Remus Lupin here; Sirius heard the wolf let out a low, murderous howl, and though he tried to put on an extra burst of speed, he knew, this time, he was too close... He needed just a minute, a minute before the sun would rise –

And then the wolf was upon him, pinning him to the ground, growling, wild with rage as the transformation back into human began; the animal instincts wanting the kill, howling in pain, still fanged teeth seeking his neck, the curling, breaking spine bending –

With a surge of energy, Sirius threw the half-wolf, half-man off his chest. Unable to control the fall, the wolf's recoiling claw hit his own face, dragging deeply across the hair that was quickly receding back into skin.

And then it was over. The wolf was gone, and only Remus lay in the leaves of the forest, whimpering, half-conscious.

Running to him, Sirius looked him over hurriedly. The gash on his face was bleeding freely, but other than that, he looked alright; a few bruises and scratches here and there, but nothing else that required immediate attention. Remus' eyes were shut now, and he was barely moving, and it was again without thinking that Sirius, still a large dog, licked his face, trying to keep him awake. He felt a feeble hand grip his back, weakly stroking the thick hair that grew there – and then, by force of will, he transformed back into human again. Remus' hand was tight on the back of his t-shirt now as Sirius gently held the boy's head between both of his palms, kneeling over the laying form of his friend. It was with effort that he removed Remus' clutching fingers, slipping out of the shirt to then press it firmly against the still flowing cut.

Remus inhaled sharply. His eyes were fluttering, and Sirius could tell he was fading, in and out, of reality. Sleep and exhaustion were overtaking him, and he mumbled deliriously, his now empty hand searching aimlessly for something. The fingers found Sirius' free ones, and instantly, his grip tightened. He wanted something to hold on too, hissing as Sirius put a little more pressure on his face, not yet trusting to lift the cotton away.

"You're fine, Moony," Sirius murmured. Carefully, he let his thumb slip over the nails of the other boy – and he felt a shiver run up his naked spine. Remus was completely unclothed, which Sirius, determinedly, ignored. He knew the embarrassment it would cause his friend otherwise, but he still felt his heartbeat quicken a pace or two. Remus' hand was still in his, and now – he lifted the make-shift bandage to see, with relief, that the blood flow had finally stopped – Remus' other hand reached upwards, fingertips just brushing the ends of Sirius' long hair, most of which was hanging down from a now disheveled ponytail. Sirius felt his breath catch in his throat.

Remus' eyes were opening slowly, but Sirius didn't want to move – whether to not disturb his friend, or because he secretly wanted to stay, he didn't know. Instead, he remained motionless, allowing Remus to ever so gently finger a piece of hair, Sirius' dirty fingers still wrapped tight in the other hand. He looked dazed, eyes glassy.

"Hey," he said weakly, and Sirius had to suppress the urge to laugh. The sound of his voice broke the spell that had come over the both of them, and he helped Remus carefully to his feet, drawing him over to the clearing in which the night had began. Shakily, Remus got dressed, still clearly not in his right mind, and it was mere seconds before he curled on the forest ground. Sirius knew, he should be tired as well, but he found, quite strangely, that he was wide awake – and though he knew he shouldn't, he felt his fingertips reaching out to cautiously, carefully, trace the long, newly formed mark that now marred his friend's cheek… and as he slid his hand downward, he felt Remus, now in complete sleep, take his hand.

And it was like that, with Sirius careful not to draw to close, that the two slept, relishing the feeling of one warm hand in another.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

A few hours later, Sirius remembered, now looking down again at the still snoozing form of the boy beside him, they had awoke as usual – feet apart on the forest ground, bodies aching from the hard night they'd had. Remus' cut had been cleaned up, and that very day was his birthday, and that night, they first time they'd kissed… the mistake that had led them to his very place, this very bed.

As if he could read Sirius' thoughts, Remus' eyes were, once again, opening, and a smile was crossing his lips as he saw his boyfriend already awake, and that he was grinning as well.

"Hello," he murmured, reaching up, as he often did, to tangle his fingers in a lock of black hair. He was so adorable coming out of sleep that Sirius did what came naturally – leaning down slightly and kissing him, feeling the warmth of his sleep-pink cheeks against his open palms. He had memorized that face – those lips, and he felt Remus smiling into the kiss the same as he was, Sirius' head falling back onto the pillow it had only just risen from.

When they drew apart again, they were face-to-face, merely inches away from the others nose. So much had changed in the past few months, and yet, some things were still so much the same; in Remus' amber eyes, Sirius could see the same innocence as the boy who'd grabbed for his hand in his sleep, the same longing as the person who'd drunkenly made the first move between them… and the long, thin scar was another part of that memory. He knew Remus didn't remember – he had never reminded him of that night – but that was why it meant so much to him; an unspoken reminder that Remus, had, in fact, loved him all along. That early morning, much like this one, he hadn't needed to say anything meaningful to make that true – and as Sirius drew his face toward Remus' again, he grinned, remembering – a smile, a touch, and a simple scar was all he had needed to make everything real.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**Hope you enjoyed! A little fun fluff.**


End file.
